


make me wanna do somethin' that's gon' keep me on your mind.

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: The 100 [24]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Bottom John Murphy (The 100), Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Morning Sex, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Quickies, Sex, i have no idea when this is set fucking disregard canon please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: When he awakes, even the sun has not risen from its slumber. The moonlight, however, seems to favor Bellamy by its generous pour of ivory over his sleeping lover's cheek, morphed into special shapes from the tent's material barely stretching over the sky to where it crimps up in certain seams. It makes him glow brilliantly and Bellamy feels his heart beat heavy in his chest as he watches Murphy's chest rise and fall.-- aka morning sex and mutual pining murphamy
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/John Murphy
Series: The 100 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275407
Kudos: 18





	make me wanna do somethin' that's gon' keep me on your mind.

**Author's Note:**

> wow, it's been a while since i wrote something full for this fandom or this ship but I adore and miss them and this has been sitting in my drafts forever so I hope you enjoy this!

When he awakes, even the sun has not risen from its slumber. The moonlight, however, seems to favor Bellamy by its generous pour of ivory over his sleeping lover's cheek, morphed into special shapes from the tent's material barely stretching over the sky to where it crimps up in certain seams. It makes him glow brilliantly and Bellamy feels his heart beat heavy in his chest as he watches Murphy's chest rise and fall. 

He finds his eyes glued to Murphy, who is pressed close to his body but no longer being held, likely having rolled away from Bellamy's cradle to his chest earlier and warm but not unpleasantly so. He's lying pliant, on his back, eyelids flickering gently over his deep cerulean blue eyes in and breath coming out in a gentle sleep. Murphy is _pretty_ and Bellamy thinks he finally calmed in his dreams, ones that had originally caused him to sob and hook his hands into their sheets while he tosses and turns, haunted by the imagery of broken Grounder weapons or painful memories of the Delinquents and other sky people. 

Bellamy is grateful for his restful sleep. He looks _pretty_ too, brow relaxed and face soft in a way consciousness rarely sees but his pliant frame and his gentle malleability makes Bellamy's thoughts drift to just how good and pliant Murphy can be in _other_ situations. Sometimes, Murphy is such a _good_ _boy_. 

He glances at the place where the moon peeks through the trees and tents and rules that it is around 4 am. _Watch in half_ , he notes immediately but with just how hard he is, he is thinking about how to settle it, causing him to glare a hole in Murphy's tight black boxers. 

Something inspires him to dip his fingers into the waistband of Murphy's underwear and begin to drag the dark material down his lover's pretty and slim ivory thighs. He drops the fabric to the floor, only slightly tossing it over his shoulder and taking in the sight: Murphy is still gentle, pliable against the sheets and still sleeping peacefully with his cock laying half-hard against his hipbone. 

It's pretty, flushed a nice pink and a bead of precum prodding the tip of his dick and Bellamy presses a kiss to the tip, which makes Murphy's hips shift and he begins to squirm a little. His lover makes a slight chewing noise, that noise Bellamy has grown fond of because it means Murphy is having wet dreams and Bellamy is used to the sensation of having his dick sucked on those mornings - he likes those mornings and that noise. 

He's surprised though, it is rare that Murphy wakes up to _him_ blowing him but it's nice, he likes Murphy's dick well enough - it's pretty with a slight curve and Bellamy can put him in his mouth without choking too badly but he prefers to get blown and he's rather sure Murphy prefers to blow him, by how quickly his fast fist jerks himself off as he sucks Bellamy's dick versus how long it takes him to cum from being blown. 

It's still nice to do, a thoughtful action to his lover who he is starting to worry may be more intimate than just a lay but tries to refuse that feeling and he simply takes Murphy's cock in his mouth, which made the sleeping boy writhe a little. Head tilting side to side, he watches Murphy's eyes finally begin to peer open. 

The deep and hazy blue of his eyes sends chills all across Bellamy's body that makes him swallow heavily and Murphy makes a wounded noise that has the older boy harder than before. He doesn't remember skating his finger up Murphy's body to finger him open but Murphy's still opened up a bit from their sensation the night before and he feels good around his fingers, warm and tight but not attempting to push the intrusion out. He thinks for the umpteenth time that morning, _good boy._

"'at time is it?" His lover's croaking voice slurs out and he glances up at the sweet way Murphy's dark blue eyes begin to peel open, still cloudy with sleep and darker blue by appearance in the moonlight. Bellamy wants to wrap his hand around his cock and stroke himself off until he cums all over Murphy's face, he cuts his thoughts off there. 

He laughs. Murphy often complains, pout hampering on his pretty lips and eyes annoyed, about just how early Bellamy gets up. Bellamy Blake was born with a military clock in his heart though, he knows, rising much earlier than necessary but with the war with Mount Weather and everything on the Ground, it has served more purpose than it has been distracting. His laugh ghosts across Murphy's hip from where he removed his mouth from the younger boy's erection but his own laughter is caught in his throat at the way the flesh pebbles beneath his huff of air. 

"4 am," he swallows out tersely and stares at the delicate curve of Murphy's hip, pale skin spread across the narrow bone like canvas stretched while thinking about bruising it beneath his strong fingers as he fucks Murphy. He corrects himself after swallowing and forcing himself to look Murphy in the eye, "I have to be on shift in 15 minutes. Can I fuck you before then?" 

It is half of a lie. He actually has to be on shift in thirty minutes but the internal monologue that he carries in his head that sounds like his mother, makes him strive to always be early and it'll be nice to see how quickly they can do this. There is something hot to the idea of how quickly they have to do this that sends passion coursing through his body and his skin feeling too hot. 

Murphy groans, head throwing back into the plush of the pillow beneath him and Bellamy follows the lines of his delicate throat with hungry eyes. He decides then and there that he'll leave hickeys all across Murphy's throat, and Murphy seems to decide he'll let him, "I don't know how well I'll do -" 

And he knows what this is: Murphy, for all of his anger and aggression and stupid recklessness, absolutely adores being told he's a good boy and that he's doing well, which Bellamy had found funny originally than a bit sad and now settles it as sweet as hell. Sometimes Murphy gets like this, shy and ashamed of himself and entirely too aware of his own body and what Bellamy thinks of him - _it's such a shame,_ Bellamy considers, _that if I told him I think he's beautiful always, he wouldn't believe me._

He doesn't remember when he stopped just considering this hot and started considering Murphy beautiful and heart-wrenchingly wonderful. He's scared of how passionate he feels when it comes to Murphy - always has been, always will be. 

"Lay back," He says, voice edging at that same tone he uses to keep the remaining delinquents in line, "I'll make it work." 

He smiles at the way Murphy still looks up at him as though for approval - he will never let it slip past those beautiful lips but Murphy searches for love and approval from those he cares for so much more than anyone could expect - and shifts his hips up. For a moment, Bellamy thinks that Murphy is simply getting needy, another common occurrence, before realizing that he is half-asleep still and assumed his boxers were still on. 

"Did you just - " he begins to ask and Murphy pauses, eyes opening rather wide before doing an embarrassed shake of the head and answering, 

"Nope." 

It fills him with warmth to be able to be gentle and soft like this with Murphy in situations of a sexual nature, almost like they're a couple in love and untouched by the doubt that they may not be in love with each other. It's dangerous at moments like this, there's too much possibility that they may forget this is just sex but Bellamy's heart has been in his throat for the past while, wondering if they both have forgotten. 

"I think you did," he teases, "my hand is inside you Murph," the nickname feels too intimate but it's already out so he tries to call attention away from it but talking more, "and I was sucking you off when you woke up!" 

"Listen," Murphy grits out and it's terribly adorable how annoyed he sounds, though Bellamy recognizes it isn't genuine from the ease of which Murphy has relaxed in their bed, "it's too early for this shit." 

He laughs gently and thinks of just how beautiful Murphy is like this. It almost feels like it's proper, like this is the type of relationship that Bellamy has always wanted with him where he can hold his hand and cuddle him into his arms without Murphy going slightly stiff before. He's lax here though, gentle and sweet in a way only culpable with a sleep-addled brain and it makes Bellamy upsettingly fond of the boy. It makes him want to wrap him in blankets but it also makes him want to pin Murphy into the mattress and spend hours fucking him. 

Murphy smiles a little, hair uncombed and falling into his face - a face that Bellamy has felt himself grow more and more fond of over time. It's in the loss of Finn, in the loss of who they were when they hit the ground, it's in the loss. 

"You ready?" He asks gently, pressing a kiss against his thigh before leaning up, cracking his back, and watching Murphy's expression carefully as he nods. 

"Yeah, Bell, I'm ready." Murphy confirms, knowing just how much Bellamy likes to hear how much he likes it and how much he wants it - Bellamy's a fan of someone who tells him he's doing well. 

Murphy may be ready but Bellamy's the one who is sure he's falling for him and he's... he's ready for it. 

Even if Murphy may not be. 

* * *

Thighs covered in hickeys and hips clad in bruises, Murphy winces as he sits that morning at breakfast. The bench is harsh beneath his bruised body and Harper glances up at him, her brown eyes bright on the other side of the table.

"You okay, Murphy?" She asks, tone obviously open and happy with no malice present but he tries to stop himself from shaking a hand at her to shut her up. 

He grits out, "Fine." 

Monty's obsidian eyes glance up at him after and murmur, "Bellamy, huh?" 

His smile is private but accepting enough that Murphy breathes out gladly, "Yeah." 

He's ready for this too. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this! Kudos and comments are appreciated, please talk to me!


End file.
